Reckoning: Chapter 49
by Michelle.Lee.PDX
Summary: Evil svetocha, Lena, is on the loose and Dru is learning as many magical powers as she can to fight her nemesis. This is the chapter to read if you want to see Christophe and Graves go mano y mano over Dru. See who starts it and who's the one to end it.


My eyes flew open with the startling realization of what I had just seen. I wanted to believe it was just an ordinary dream, but I knew this vision really was part of the Real World.

_Shit!_ _ Who is she? She didn't seem that interested in him so maybe it's just a passing crush that'll go nowhere. I hope. Is it naive of me to think Graves wouldn't ever be into anyone else? Do I even have a right to be upset when we were never together? Maybe it's time to wake up, Dru girl._

I tried to shake off the images, hoping I'd forget it in a few minutes. I stretched my back out on the bed relishing the lack of aches and pains I used to feel in the years before the _blooming_. _Glad that phase is over._ A knock at my door sounded just then. It was Nat. We'd still not spoken since three days ago when I unloaded on her over the fact that she, Dibs and Shanks have been keeping secrets from me. I felt betrayed by my own friends. A feeling of tightness arose in my chest just thinking about what they all might know that I don't when it comes to Graves. I was tired of the drama and just wanted it to be over. It was exhausting being angry all the time.

"Come in." I spoke in a nonchalant way.

The door popped ajar. "Milady, it's me Skyrunner." Nat was being so formal.

She entered the room quietly with the quick, smooth movement of _wulfen_, but with feminine quickness. She made her way over to the closet, picked out some clean clothes for me to wear and set them on the dressing table. "Would you like me to pick you up some breakfast?"

"Nah, that's okay. I'm not hungry today." _Should I start the discussion or wait for her?_

Nat took my stated disinterest in food as a sign of my enduring anger. She turned away and started tidying up the suite in silence. _Awkward._

I pushed myself out bed, changed clothes, did a quick comb through of my tangled mess of hair and brushed my teeth. When I came out of the bathroom, Nat had already left. _Maybe I'm not ready to talk anyways so it's probably good we didn't have another confrontation._

I fumbled through the first half of my classes in a haze contemplating how Magdalena factored into everything. _How could one svetocha become so powerful without having someone train her? Only the Maharaj have the powers she does. I wish Christophe was here so I could grill him about it. I wish he was here to tell me what to do. Am I too dependent on him? I have to admit, I miss Mr. Apple Pie. _

After a quick lunch in the caf, I nearly smacked into Bruce while running to sorcery class. I let out a _svetocha_ scream as we came face to face around a tight corner. "Pardon me, Milady. I did not see you coming."

I had not thought about Bruce at all since I left Leander's class the day before. The vision of the past was so exhausting I nearly forgot that he was the one who accidentally turned Magdalena into an evil psychopath. For all of Bruce's good intentions, he had created a monster.

"Um, it's my fault Bruce. I'm hardly looking where I'm walking these days." I struggled to find the right words with him. _Should I even ask about her? How do you bring something up like that? Give it a try, girl._

"Bruce, I've been meaning to ask you about something if you have a second?"

"Well, I am on my way to meet Alton but I can certainly spare a second for you, Milady." Without a doubt, politeness was his forte.

"Look, I know that the topic of um… Milady Gogol, is a sore subject around here." At first Bruce had no reaction because he was unprepared for my question. Then he nodded his head very slowly, as if he was considering whether he should engage. "But I need to know more about her and what the hell happened in the past." Bruce took a step back and folded his hands behind him.

"Please tell me. It's time. I deserve to know." I sounded firm but inside I felt guilty for stretching him on the rack.

He made a throat clearing type of noise that was seemed more like a nervous tick. "We need to have a moment of privacy, Milady. Please come with me." I followed Bruce down several corridors and to the row of offices used by the Order members. We entered a chamber, styled in traditional English décor, with accents of Arabian art. He motioned me to take a seat on the tan leather armchair near the fireplace, then sat himself down in the companion chair. We waited in silence for a moment. Clumsily Bruce offered some tea, which I declined. Regardless, he stood up and strode over to the sideboard and started measuring out loose tea into a pot._  
_

He filled a kettle with water as he spoke. "What I am about to tell you is not easy for me to say. I have spent many decades reflecting upon what I have done. However, I did not intend any of it to happen the way it did. Once Milady turned, we tried everything possible to alter the blood dark's effects. Reynard was driven as ever to find a _cure_. However, there were no spells, potions, devices or medical treatment that could change her back. Each attempt to treat her was invasive and caused her much pain. It was heart-wrenching to see, and hear, her go through it."

The kettle whistled as the water came to a boil. "Dylan was nearly driven mad by it all. He had just proposed to her too. It was terrible mostly because Milady still had all off of her memories. But she was not the same girl we knew, and adored. She was dark, and she was manipulative." I imagined the cruel things that she probably said to the people she once loved just because she knew she could. _Poor Dylan._

I was almost too afraid to ask but I had to know. "What happened to the other _svetocha_, Bruce?" I squeezed my hands together tightly in anticipation. Bruce shifted his weight in the chair. The leather upholstery squeaked. He whispered his response just enough so I could hear him. I almost didn't make out a few of his words because he was so breathless.

He looked green in the face. "Two months after she turned, she escaped by tricking our guards with magic. We found a trail of them from her containment cell to the exterior doors. It was not pretty. Reynard left the _schola_ to find her but was never successful in bringing her back. He and one of the Maharaj warriors tracked her for seven months. They failed to find her." He sighed deeply before attempting to continue on.

"In the year of 1914, one morning as we were just getting the _schola_ bedded down, Milady infiltrated the grounds using her skills… and her powers. She directed Sergej's force of Broken to attack us from the South and the West. She successfully distracted our defensive line. While we were occupied, she penetrated our walls and, one by one, located the other _svetocha_."

Bruce's voice was nearly a whisper and I leaned forward to discern what he said. "We were too late by the time we found them." He paused for a really long moment. He placed his hands on his temples. "Milady had drunk each one of them dry."

I was an auto-pilot as I left Bruce's office and meandered around the schola, through the caf for a bento box and down the stairs to the lower level where sorcery class was held.

I sat on the teak stool in Leander's classroom with a completely washed-out, blank look on my face. I was in shock. _I can't believe she fucking killed all of the girls in one night_. I was a rollercoaster of emotions, outright rage versus uncontrollable sorrow.

"_Rajkumari_, are you alright?"

I shifted my stare into Leander's face. "I… I don't know actually."

"I can see that you are troubled because your aura is gray. Would you like to discuss?" He sat on the stool nearest to mine.

I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans while I exhaled in an uneven way. "I'm angry to tell you the truth. I just want to hurt her the way she has done to others." I honestly felt like hitting or shooting something until the feeling dissipated.

"Rage and revenge are two dangerous combinations, Milady. We will find a way to divert the feelings into energy, which you can use against her one day. Does this emotion have anything to do with the visions from yesterday?" I nodded my confirmation.

"I understand. The responsibility you have been handed as a natural born psychic comes with a price. You are also _svetocha._ All eyes are on you all the time, which is overwhelming, I can imagine." I nodded my head and appreciated his attempt at empathy.

I did struggle with the feeling of being asked to do _too much. _ I just wished I could run away and do whatever the hell I wanted. Deep down inside all I really wanted to do is find a way to take that Lena bitch out. _I wonder where she's been hiding out since 1914 and what she's up to right now?_

"Maybe what you need is a distraction. Shall we begin our next lesson in object reading?" I fought the urge to leave and not look back. _Whatever. _

Leander pointed his right hand toward the table. _ "_Today is your opportunity to touch the sacred cow." He smiled. I was confused, but after a moment I understood what he was getting at. Finally I half-smiled. "Oh, I get it."

I'd been staring at Mom's black and white cow cookie jar ever since I stepped foot in the classroom. It sat on the table next to me. I was anxious to _read _it. _Would it show me something about Mom? Would it tell me something I don't want to know? That's a risk I'm willing to take. _

Leander slid off his stool and pushed the cookie jar across the table in my direction. It was not a small piece of kitchenware so I was careful with it. I lifted the lid and smelled inside. It still had the comforting scent of oatmeal chocolate chip, Mom's favorite cookie.

Leander wrote on the board with chalk.

_When and why, if and how._

_Present time, show me now._

"Again Miss Dru, same as yesterday, speak the incantation three times in your mind and focus on the object in your possession." He held up a hand to signal me to wait. "I need to warn you, today's lesson is not about the past, but the present. You most likely will not see the vision you expect about Milady Elizabeth. Now that she has moved on to another realm, she is out of our sight."

I guess I stuck out my bottom lip in a pouty fashion. "Why can't we see the past using this object?"

Leander gave me a very matter of fact response. "That is not what it is programmed to do. The objects are fixed to give one of three possible timelines and this one is set for the present, nothing else."

"But how do you know that?" I was confused by his explanation.

"That is what it told me, Milady." He grinned and paused. Before I opened my mouth to question him he continued to explain. "It is simple _Rajkumari_. There is a spell that tells us what tense the object can show. Your cow told me that it shall only visualize the present, not the past. Understand?" _Not really, but whatever. _

I focused on the black and white jar and spoke the incantation three times. The air around it began to swirl into a watery scene. I was more used to the process now and remained calm, waiting for the clarity to arrive.

I first heard the sounds of the ocean waves and then noticed the familiar scent of spiced apple pie. The scene came into focus as the air pulled horizontally across and into sharpness. The _djamphire_ was standing on the beach with his bare feet sinking into the sand. He was wearing a gray v-neck tee and dark washed jeans, which fit him snugly across his backside. His face was tired looking and almost blanched of any color. Only his icy blue eyes displayed any life and they looked sad. He appeared to be in a ragged condition emotionally and mentally.

Christophe's mind was raw and exposed. He was angry, sullen and ashamed. The Maharaj spell had not worked more than one hundred years as he had hoped. Lena was nearly free again and he was desperate to stop her before she hurt another _svetocha_. She'd already taken too many lives and he was damned if she hurt his _ptaszku_. Lena was merely toying around when she inscribed Dru's back.

Christophe had to leave the _schola_. He needed to get some distance between himself and Dru to throw Lena off. Maybe his sister wouldn't find Dru such a worthy target if she didn't see think of her as his love interest, in addition to being _svetocha_. It was a big risk to leave Dru, but he also needed to buy himself time to devise a plan of attack. He had to find Lena to take her out, once and for all. There was no other choice. That was a lesson he learned the hard way already. He had been so naïve to think that Dylan and he, would be better served by letting her live.

Over 100 years ago, his friend, Rajesh, lost his life in the quest to capture Lena. It was an honorable death but still the _djinni_ never forgave him for what happened. Rajesh's untimely death was the primary reason they parted with the Order. His friend was well respected and probably their most valuable.

Christophe's aspect fluttered through him as he worked through the range of emotions. He sat down on the sand and pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket along with a pencil. As the pages of book were flipped, one could see that he was an artist of tremendous talent. The sketch book contained dozens of drawings of a young woman, one that had long brown waves of hair, blue eyes like her father's and a locket that originally belonged to her mother's mother.

The scene swirled away but my gaze stayed focused on the cookie jar. The atmosphere clarified from liquid fuzziness to a sharp tonal color. The Kouroi was standing in the great room of a modernly styled house. The ceiling was more than forty feet up. The windows were as tall as the walls. One could see outside there the tops of evergreen trees and graceful rock formations in the distance. Christophe seemed nervous but it never showed on his face. He stayed calmly poised.

"What are you doing here, Reynard?" The voice behind Christophe uttered a perturbed tone. If it weren't for the carpeted floors, it would have echoed in the great room.

The _djamphire_ tuned on his heel to face the _wulf. _"I came to ask a favor of you, Mr. Graves." Christophe's aspect flushed across his face. His fangs extended but he still maintained his composure given he was facing the one person in the world whom he considered true _competition_. He hardly understood why Graves had to be his rival, but that was not his concern presently.

Graves scoffed at the sound of the word _favor_. "Oh yeah, what's the catch?" He rarely trusted the _djamphire_ but they had a few moments where respect was owed and given in exchange. He was willing to listen. After all it had been nearly two years since their last confrontation and he hoped he had matured a bit since then.

"I came to request that you be honest with Milady regarding your intentions toward her." Christophe didn't think there was any other way to lead up to his demands than being direct and to the point.

Graves walked across the room and crossed into his rival's personal space. They stood close enough to feel the heat of the other's exhale. Graves was clearly annoyed and not at all intimidated by the Kourio. He was several inches taller than Christophe even without the _Other_, which was in excess of seven feet tall.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Reynard? You came all the way over here, on _wulfen_ ground, to tell me how to manage my personal business?" Graves' chest started to puff up and his breathing quickened.

Christophe didn't flinch a bit. "It is my business when it comes to Dru's well-being. She believes you to be in love with her. You and I both know that the likelihood of you and Milady living happily ever after is… questionable."

Graves took a step back. He did not openly disagree with Christophe, however he did not agree either. He certainly didn't like being told what to do by a _djamphire_. "I do have Dru's well-being in mind, and part of me believes you're doing this because you hate to lose, especially to a _wulf._ Ring any bells?"

Christophe smirked at Graves in response. "I do prefer winning to not winning. However this is not about that at all. Milady deserves to know the full truth, _loup-garou_. I will not tolerate seeing her be hurt." He spoke in a self-assured manner. "When are you going to tell her?"

Graves was sure that his competitor was still in love with Dru too. "Maybe I'll never have to. There's a few things I'm working out."

Christophe had zero belief that there was any way the _wulf_ and Dru could be together or that they should be together. The _loup-garou_ was trouble and he was ill-prepared to provide for her future in more ways than one. "That is highly unlikely... son."

"Fuck off, old man."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Without warning, in aspect form, Christophe lunged at Graves and delivered an uppercut to the chin. Graves was not amateurish anymore. He blocked the punch, sending a painful jab to his opponent's abdominals. The _djamphire_ flew backwards and rolled across the floor, cracking through the drywall. The wall was indented where he hit it.

Graves clearly seemed pleased with himself for getting a good one in. The last time the two of them rumbled it was near the bleachers outside the _schola_ and the outcome was rather humiliating. He lost more than a teenage boy skirmish that day. That was the beginning of a long painful journey to the dark side and back.

Christophe stood up with twitchy, lightening speed. He turned toward the glass patio door leading onto the deck. "Let's go, _Loup-garou_." He opened the slider and stepped out. Graves half-smirked and willed himself to change. His Other emerged with the popping sound of growing and hardening bones.

The two stood out on the open wood deck in the middle of a huge forest estate. There were several other decks above them and the railings were filling up with _wulfen_, curious to see the rivalry between the infamous _djamphire_ and the hot-shot, _loup-garou_. Even though _loups_ are considered weaker than full _wulfen_, Graves' recent training in Judo, Taekwondo and _nintoken_ sword fighting made him a substantial competitor.

The two faced each other down and circled clockwise, while maintaining the gaze on the other. Christophe's right and left fists were in defensive _krav maga_ position, ready for Graves' strike. Graves moved first, using his graceful _wulfen_ style by kicking with a front right. His long legs were his best asset but Christophe was _djamphire_ fast and caught his leg in the air, moved to twist, throwing the _loup_ to the ground. The Judo expert in Graves engaged and from the floor managed to pin Christophe onto his stomach. Graves' body was larger and wider than the narrow form of the Kourio so the wrestler in him emerged naturally. Christophe was too quick and pulled out from under the _wulf_, striking Grave's backside while he was down. The observing _wulfen_ howled their disappointment and distaste at Christophe's dirty blow.

The yelps from the _wulves _echoed in the forest against the evergreens. The sun was lower on the horizon and the area was becoming more shadowy. The two again faced the other, fist to fist. Their hands were up in form one of each's art and ready for offensive or defensive strikes. Christophe was surprised at the _loup-garou's_ improved skills and was eager to see how much longer he would last.

The _djamphire_ dipped low and struck with his right fist as it combined with a kick to the knee. Graves dodged the fist but took a hit to the kneecap popping it backwards. He yelled in pain but then snapped it back and readied himself for the next attack. Christophe smiled at Grave's resilience. The _loup_ punched left, squatted low and hit into the groin area. Reynard doubled over in pain, rolled on his side and then to his hands and knees while breathing deeply. "Since we're playing dirty, you had it comin'." Graves was without sympathy for his opponent.

After a moment, Christophe stood up slowly, straightened his shirt and readied himself for the next round. The two men locked gazes. They fought until they were both bleeding and panting with exhaustion. Graves' bulky _loup_ form was visible through the giant hole in the front chest on his sweater. Sweat ran down the front and back of him. There was no use in wearing the stupid garment anymore so he pulled it over his head and threw it aside.

"Ready to give in, Reynard?"

Christophe almost laughed his response. "Like hell, Mr. Graves." His gray tee was also tattered but he didn't have a need to go all Hulk Hogan on the moment as well. He thought about his scars on his back and considered how it might be an intimidating sight, which was not necessarily a bad thing. Still he kept his modesty in check.

Graves glanced at the decks full of watching _wulfen_. One set of eyes in particular caught his attention in the moment. Her beautiful and composed form was watching the fight with a sense of boredom. She'd seen boys do stupid testerone-driven acts before and this was no exception.

Despite the fatigue, Graves ran toward Christophe, gathered air and laid a combination of punches and a kick, hitting Christophe in the face and chest. The Kourio fell backwards and landed against the railing, cracking the wood and bending the steel support bars. Blood gushed from a cut to his face where Grave's naily claws cut him above the right eye. He clutched his chest and felt the spot where there soon would be a massive contusion. He had to admit he was tired.

Christophe thought for a moment before readying himself to speak. His breath was labored and choppy. Graves was also hurt and bleeding and looked ready to collapse. Christophe couldn't believe it but he was actually willing to concede to a _wulf,_ with one request. "_Loup-garou_, before this ends with us tearing the house apart, I am willing give you one, just for today." He smirked at the _loup. _You have won, rightly so. You played dirty and it was justified. Will you shake?" Christophe offered his right hand in a gesture of sportsmanship.

Graves hesitated but slowly reached out and accepted the shake. As he did, Christophe pulled him in close. He whispered so only Graves could hear. "Don't be naïve. Tell her the truth, the sooner the better."

Graves pulled back and looked the Kourio in the eyes without blinking or flinching. "I'm not being naïve at all, Reynard." The left corner of his mouth pulled up into a sly grin. "Ever heard of a thing called… _hope_?"

**Readers: Dru still is the object of affection for both guys and now she knows it. The choice of two men is the least of her problems. Will she re-unite with her wulfen pals and what is this secret that everyone is keeping from her? What is Lena planning next in her quest to hurt Dru, Christophe and anyone that gets in the way of her evil plan? **


End file.
